The Sauna, aka 'The Day McKay and The Colonel Got Hot and Sweaty In Public'

The door, when they discover it, proves stubborn and resists initial attempts to coax it open, but Rodney perseveres. He perseveres in urging John on to greater efforts, until the door gives in and opens and they step on in.

Unfortunately, it then slides closed. And stays that way.

~~~

Half the crystals on the interior door control panel are missing, which doesn't impress Rodney one bit. He curses the Ancients and their apparent inability to put up simple-to-understand 'Out Of Order' signs. If John considers pointing out that the fight they had to get the door open might have been a small clue, he doesn't mention it. He knows better.

The narrow hall they're trapped in opens into a white hexagonal room lined with tiers of wide plain benches. The clickclunkhiss and sudden rise in humidity only serves to shock them both into worried recognition.

"It's a-"

"-sauna."

Their words trip and tumble over one another, and then Rodney rolls his eyes and waves his hands in wild expression.

"A defective sauna if I'm not mistaken, if we take into account the way the door was rigged to keep us out. Infuriating Ancients. If it's not nanobots designed to kill us, or alien energy beings kept prisoner for eons in traps kids can screw up with one finger, its rooms set up to parboil whoever wonders in."

Rodney peels off his jacket and starts to check the walls for some sort of control system or removable panel.

"Well don't just stand there staring, Colonel, unless you want to rely on the rabble outside for your rescue. Once someone remembers to send for Radek, it'll still take hours to track him down. He's off with Halling building stills again."

As they search, the room gets hotter, and more humid. Clothing becomes a hindrance.

~~~

After an hour the heat and humidity begins to affect the radio signals, and the people outside can only hear the odd broken snippet of conversation.

Someone does send for Radek, almost before they hear McKay mention the Czech's name. Almost. They find him singing songs with Halling and a group of other very merry Athosians, but he's not drunk. It takes more than half a gallon of still swill to take down an eastern European scientist of his renown.

It takes three hours to get the door to open, each team working on their side exhaustively. Or so they claim. When it finally slides back to reveal the pair - shirtless, shoeless, sweat-soaked and looking rather rumpled - and standing very close - a collective sigh ripples through the waiting crowd.